


the perils of finals week

by sara_wolfe



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21755044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_wolfe/pseuds/sara_wolfe
Summary: On one hand, the sign on the back of the guy’s chair pretty much screamed: “Studying! Do not disturb!” And Tony knew what it was like to get into that zone of concentration, and how long it took to get back into studying mode after someone interrupted him. So, he was loathe to bother the guy.On the other hand, the guy’s hair was on fire.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83
Collections: 2019 WinterIron_Holiday_Exchange





	the perils of finals week

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faustess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faustess/gifts).



> For the prompt: _1\. Tony walks past Bucky who's wearing the big noise cancelling headphones, hunched over at a computer with books and notes all over. Taped to the top of Bucky's shoulders is a typed sign: DO NOT DISTURB. Exceptions in case of emergency are permitted. Examples of an emergency include: 1) you are on fire and I'm the only one who can put it out. 2) I'm on fire and don't realize it. FAQ: Q: "How's it going?" A: "Good." Q: "What are you working on?" A: "Stuff." Q: "How's stuff going?" A: "See answer 1." HAVE A NICE DAY._

On one hand, the sign on the back of the guy’s chair pretty much screamed: “Studying! Do not disturb!” And Tony knew what it was like to get into that zone of concentration, and how long it took to get back into studying mode after someone interrupted him. So, he was loathe to bother the guy.

On the other hand, the guy’s hair was on fire. 

Not a whole lot of fire; it wasn’t like there were any obvious flames or anything. It was mostly just gently smoking, and to be honest, Tony wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t been staring at the guy’s admittedly-pretty hair. But he had noticed, and the guy was on fire. 

So Tony felt like he had to do something. He had to do something, right?

Before he could talk himself out of it – the guy looked really involved in his textbook and Tony hated the thought of disturbing him – he grabbed his coffee with one hand, grabbed the guy’s ponytail with the other, and poured cold coffee all over the smoke coming off the guy’s hair. Coffee poured all over his hand and splashed all over the floor of the library, earning him the attention and probable ire of the librarian heading toward him with a furious look on her face. 

But the fire was out. And as far as Tony could tell, the guy hadn’t even noticed what Tony had just done.

He hurried to intercept the librarian before she could get as far as the guy’s table, holding his hands up in a silent plea for mercy. “I had to do it,” he protested, before she could say a word. “His hair was on fire. Literally on fire. It was the only way I could think to put it out. I’m sorry; I’ll never do it again. Unless someone else is on fire.” He gave the librarian his most winning smile, hoping to have forestalled any outbursts. 

“Mr. Stark-“ the librarian started, but then she sighed and shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “Get out,” she ordered, gesturing in the vague direction of the front doors. “Just – out.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Tony agreed, quickly, dashing back to grab his backpack from where he’d dropped it before heading in the direction she’d indicated. He was supposed to be meeting Rhodey for a study session, but there were other ways he could sneak back in. 

And maybe if he was careful to avoid the library staff, he could sneak another look at the cute guy.

* * *

The next time Tony saw his mystery guy, he was at Tony’s favorite coffee shop, the one with the really good coffee and the even better pastries. Mystery Guy had staked out one of the largest tables and had it completely covered in papers, textbooks, and an old laptop that had clearly seen better days. He was drawing glares from the other patrons for having taken up the entire table, but he was built like an army tank and had a glare to match, and no one was actually brave enough to say something to him.

Nobody except Tony, that was. 

Weaving his way through the crowd, Tony plunked his backpack down in an empty chair on the side opposite Mystery Guy, dropping his own textbooks onto the only empty corner of the table. Mystery Guy, with his noise-canceling headphones on again, didn’t even seem to notice him. 

Tony was such a fixture in this particular coffee shop that he didn’t even have to go up to the counter to place his order; one of the baristas came over a couple minutes after he’d entered and handed him his usual drink, taking the cash Tony handed her in return.

“Did you even bother to count what you’re tipping us, or did you just pull out your usual ridiculous wad of cash?” she asked, flicking quickly through the bills. 

“Usual ridiculous wad of cash,” Tony said, shooting her a quick grin before turning his attention back to his physics notes. “I’m a busy college student, I don’t have time to actually count things.”

“And that’s why you’re our favorite,” came the reply. As she walked away, Tony heard her mutter, “This’ll cover groceries for the week,” and he resolved to add more to the tip jar before he left. 

Fortified with his coffee, Tony turned his attention to his own homework. He kept one eye on Mystery Guy while he was working; Mystery Guy was studying from the same copy of the physics text that Tony was, but Tony didn’t remember him from his section. Then again, it was a surprisingly large class, and he was really bad with faces.

Balling up a piece of scratch paper, he tossed it in Mystery Guy’s direction, hoping to get his attention. The ball of paper barely made it halfway across the table; if Rhodey had seen that throw, he would have never let Tony hear the end of it. Thankfully, he wasn’t there, so Tony just crumpled up another piece of paper and tried again. This one flew further than intended, though, bouncing off Mystery Guy’s forehead.

“Hey, are you in Wallace’s eight a.m. class?” Tony asked, as Mystery Guy pulled off his headphones and looked over at him in confusion. 

“What?” Mystery Guy was frowning at him, looking between his textbooks and Tony like he couldn’t actually figure out how either of them had gotten there. 

“Professor Wallace’s eight a.m. physics class?” Tony prompted. “Is that your class?”

“Yes?” Mystery Guy didn’t sound like he was actually sure of that answer. Mystery Guy didn’t look like he was actually sure of his own identity at the moment. “Who the hell are you? And why isn’t this the library?”

“Because it’s a coffee shop,” Tony told him. “And you really, really need some coffee.” Waving over one of the baristas, Tony ordered Mystery Guy the biggest coffee on the menu. And then a sandwich for good measure, because food was important. “I’m Tony, by the way.”

“Bucky,” Mystery Guy introduced himself, still looking around in confusion. “Is it still Monday?”

“Thursday,” Tony told him. “Did you seriously lose the last three days?”

“I think so.” Bucky finally looked back at Tony. “Did we take Wallace’s final, yet?”

“Tomorrow,” Tony reassured him, watching as Bucky slumped with relief in his chair. 

Then he looked confused again as coffee and a sandwich were placed on the table in front of him. “Um-”

“I bought it for you,” Tony said. “You looked like you could really use the pick-me-up.”

“Oh, thanks.” Bucky took a cautious sip of the coffee before inhaling the rest of it in a few seconds. The sandwich followed almost as quickly, until just an empty plate remained. “I haven’t really eaten or slept for the last few days.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Tony chuckled. “You want more coffee, or another sandwich?”

“I want to go to sleep,” Bucky said, with an exhausted groan. “I’ve been studying forever, and my brain is fried, and I’m never going to make sense of chapter eight.”

“Which part?” Tony asked, already flipping to the chapter in his own book.

“All of it,” Bucky grumbled, but then he relented when Tony shot him a look. “Okay, really just the part about thermodynamics.”

Grabbing his book, Tony stood up and moved to the chair directly beside Bucky’s. “Show me your study guide,” he ordered, already pulling Bucky’s book toward himself to look at what Bucky had been focusing on. “We’ve still got sixteen hours until the test, and I’m going to make sure you know this in your sleep.”

* * *

“Why did I decide to study physics, again?”

“Because you’re a masochist.” Grinning up at Bucky, Tony looped their arms and towed the other boy away from the classroom. “Besides, that was fun.”

“A three-hour comprehensive final exam is not fun,” Bucky told him. 

“Agree to disagree,” Tony replied. “Hey, you know what we should do?”

“Go back to our dorms and sleep for the next week?” Bucky asked, looking like he was ready to fall asleep right where he was standing.

“I was thinking more along the lines of coffee,” Tony said.

“Coffee is the opposite of sleep,” Bucky started to protest, but then he sighed. “Ah, what the hell. I’ll just get decaf or something, and amuse myself by watching you get all hyped up and bounce off the walls.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tony teased him. “And at least I get to see you drinking coffee this time, instead of wearing it.” 

It took a second, and then Bucky’s eyes widened. “That was you?” he demanded. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Your hair was on fire,” Tony told him. “There was smoke coming out of your ponytail. I had to put it out, and the only thing I had was my coffee. In my defense, your sign said ‘do not disturb,’ and you didn’t even notice when I poured the coffee on you.”

“The sign also said to tell me if I was on fire!” Bucky shook his head, incredulously. “Only you, Tony. Only you.”

“Fine,” Tony sighed, heaving a mock-aggravated sigh, “I will tell you the next time someone lights your head on fire.”

“…you’re planning for a next time?”


End file.
